


Pirates of the Caribbean: Heart of the Sea

by White_Noise



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Captain Will Turner, F/M, Family Feels, Flying Dutchman, Gen, How I think POTC6 should go, Pirate King Elizabeth Swann, Post- Dead Men Tell No Tales, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-06 15:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15197975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Noise/pseuds/White_Noise
Summary: The Curse of the Dutchman has been broken....or has it?The Trident is gone and the Dead Mans Chest is Empty. But so is Will Turner. Where is his Heart? Why does he still feel the call of the Dutchman, even as he sets foot on land? What is the Heart of the Sea? And what in Henry's nightmares links it all together?As Davy Jones walks the earth once more, looking for revenge, the Turners, Carina and Jack Sparrow must face a perilous journey to find the Heartbefore it's too late.





	1. Chapter 1

_‘The King and his men, Stole the Queen from her bed, and bound her in her bones’_

_‘The Seas are ours and by the powers, Where we will…we’ll roam’_

 

It was like being under water, like his limbs were slowed down, an unseen force resisting his movements. Like a dream, as his foot landed on the rotten wooden deck. The young man, little more than a boy, recognised this ship. It was one he had dreamed about most of his life. 

And yet, this time it felt different. Instead of the joy he felt when he had this dream, as it always played out, his long lost father stepping out from behind the mast to embrace him, it felt cold. Like the one time he managed to board this ship in the real world. 

In his ears, the boy could hear his racing heart as he slowly walked across the deck, towards the mast. 

 

_‘Some men have died and some are alive, and others sail on the sea.’_

_‘With the keys to the cage, and the devil to pay, we lay to Fiddlers Green’_

 

Someone was watching him. It was an eerie feeling and the boy knew that if he turned, he would not be able to find his observer. The boy was used to being observed. He had been watched all his life. And yet, this was unsettling. Dangerous.

He could feel the danger in the air, like a thick sea fog, almost thick enough to choke him.

He rounded the mast, hoping against hope that this would play out as it always had, with a smiling older man to greet him but there was no one there.

 

_‘The bell has been raised from its watery grave, do you hear its sepulchral tone?’_

_‘A call to all, pay heed to the squall, and turn your sail towards home.’_

 

There was a soft tapping from the aft of the ship, like the thud of a boot rhythmically hitting wood. The boy turning his head towards it. 

Behind him, there was a series of soft sounds, sounds the boy couldn’t identify. It felt like more eyes were on him now, like he was being followed. Like someone or something was standing behind him, following him. The young man didn’t dare turn around. He did not want to see what was behind him as he slowly, fighting his fear, walked towards the tapping noise. 

A soft voice started singing as the boy arrived at the foot of the steps.

 

_‘Yo, ho haul together, hoist the colours high’_

 

The boy walked up the stairs, one hand gripping the rotten wooden railing as if it would protect him. He reached the top, peering into the gloom. At the aft of the ship, standing by the railing, was a dark figure. Its foot was tapping softly as the figure sung.

 

_‘Heave ho, thieves and beggers, never shall we die’_

 

The boy froze, his muscles locking up, grip white on the railing as his body held him in place. Slowly, the figure turned, revealing a frightening face. A sea monster in the place of a man, with tentacles draped down its front and yellow eyes looking into his very soul.

The figure looked the boy up and down before stepping forward, towards the frozen child. 

“The Heart of the Sea.” The figure rasped as it stepped closer and closer, booted feet dragging on the deck as if the act of walking was difficult.

There was a sickening hiss of metal as the monster drew a sword out from the scabbard at its hip, a beautiful silver sword with a gold hilt. 

“Welcome home….Turner.”

The figure thrust the sword forward, stabbing through the boy’s chest.

\----

With a strangled gasp, Henry Turner shot up in his bed, grabbing at his chest. The exact spot where the sword had pierced him in the dream. Still breathing heavily, the young man, little more than a boy, grabbed at his shirt, pushing the material aside to see his pale skin. 

In the faint moonlight streaming into his bedroom, Henry thought he could see a small, thin red mark on his chest, above his heart. He ran his fingers along the mark, attempting to rub it away. After a few seconds, he blinked before removing his hand. The mark was gone. 

Still fighting for breath, Henry searched his skin further. In the dim, it was difficult to see, leaving him to wonder if the mark had even been there or if it was his imagination, brought on by the nightmare.

After a few minutes, Henry had finally gotten his breathing under control. He looked around at the room he was in. His bedroom from his childhood. He had grown up in this room, in this small house near the light house on the small island of Shipwreck Cove. 

He had spent most of his life here until a few years ago when he had left the island to find the Trident of Poseidon, to rescue his father from the Curse of the Dutchman. 

A curse which had only been broken a few days before, as his father had set foot on land for the first time a free man, finally able to reunite with Henry’s mother.  
Wiping the sweat from his face, Henry looked out the window. 

It still felt like a dream, being able to embrace his father for the first time in years after his adventure on the Black Pearl, Carina, his friend, his ally, by his side. Meeting Captain Jack Sparrow, an old friend of his parents and battling Salazar, it all still felt so un-real. 

Every time he woke, Henry had the fear that it had been a dream, that his father was still a prisoner to the Dutchman. That he had failed. 

Still sitting on his bed, Henry’s eyes narrowed as he spotted a figure through his window, a figure standing outside his house, looking towards the sea, the bright moonlight bathing the figure in an eerie glow. For a second, it looked like the figure of Henry’s dream. Climbing to his feet, Henry made his way to the window to try and see the figure. Then Henry recognised it. 

Recovering his britches and jacket from the floor, Henry shrugged them on as he left the room and walked lightly down the creaking stairs of his home, careful to avoid waking his mother or Carina, sleeping in the rooms by his. 

Stepping outside, Henry slowly approached the figure, standing still as a statue in the light of the moon, except for one hand which was rubbing slow circles against his left breast, above his heart.

“Father?” He asked softly. 

The figure turned to look at him, hand dropping to his side. Brown eyes gazed at Henry, so like his own. 

“Henry?” Will Turners gravelly voice asked as the older man turned. “What are you doing up?”

“I came to see you.” The younger Turner replied, stepping to stand by his father. For a brief second, Henry's eyes rested on the low collar of his fathers shirt where he could see a familiar scar, the scar from the knife that had cut out his fathers heart, before he met his fathers warm gaze. “Are you alright?” He asked. 

Will turned away, eyes looking towards the sea again. 

“I am fine son.” He replied. 

Henry watched him for a moment before following his gaze to the sea. 

“Is it different? Being on land again? Being free?”

Slowly, Henry felt his father’s arm reach up to rest on his shoulder, a re-assuring weight, anchoring him back from his nightmare. 

“It’s like nothing else.” Will replied. 

The two men stood in silence, watching the horizon as slowly, the inky black receded into a brilliant red.

“Red sky at morning.” Will muttered. 

“Sailors, heed this warning.” Henry finished the rhyme. The one his mother and her court had taught him long ago.

Almost absentmindedly, Henry started to hum, a distant song caught in his head as he lent against his fathers side.

“Yo, ho.” He muttered. “Haul together. Hoist the colours high.”

Wills hand tightened on his shoulder, the older man suddenly stiffening. 

“Henry. Where did you hear that?” Will said suddenly, turning to face him, using his hand to push Henry’s body abound so the two were face to face. 

“What? I…” Henry trailed off, unsure what his father was referring to. Suddenly his father’s hands were on his face, holding him steady as his father studying him. 

“Henry. Who sang that song?” Will demanded. 

“….It was a monster. In a dream I had.” Henry replied, stunned by how quickly this quiet moment had turned. Suddenly the world felt dangerous.

Will looked down, eyes wide, his breath suddenly coming in gasps. 

“It’s the summons for the Brethren.”

The former Captain’s hands left his sons face. Then the older man was running back towards the house. 

Stunned, Henry turned and ran after his father, seeing Will kick open the door ahead of him and shout into the dim.

“Elizabeth! Elizabeth, get up!”

Henry made it to the door to see his father disappearing up the stairs towards the room where his wife slept. Running up, Henry narrowly avoided crashing into Carina as the young woman stepped from the bedroom she had been given by Henry’s mother on their arrival on the island 3 days before, shawl wrapped around her nightgown.

“What is it?” She asked as Henry grabbed her arm to prevent her falling to the ground. Already, at the other end of the landing, they could see Henry’s parents, his mother, also in a nightgown, listening to her father as he spoke in a hushed voice. 

For a second, Henry saw his mother turn a wide eyed look of shock on him before she disappeared into the bedroom, returning a few seconds later with something golden in her hand. 

Henry knew without looking what this was. His mother’s Piece of Eight, one of the nine pieces of gold which appointed its owner a Pirate Lord. Both his mother and father looked at the piece of gold for a moment before looking up at each other. 

“You need to get to the Court.” Will muttered. 

Without question, Elizabeth ducked back into the room while Will turned, striding towards Henry and Carina. Without hesitation, Will grabbed his sons arm and dragged the younger man into the bedroom, Carina only a step behind them.

“Henry, tell us exactly what happened in your dream when you heard the song.” Will demanded. 

Henry opened his mouth, surprised by his father’s urgency. He turned to look at his mother for help but was forced to cover his eyes in horror as his mother stripped off her nightgown, grabbing clothes out of a chest. 

“Henry!” Will demanded. 

“It was just a dream.” Henry said weakly. “I was on the Dutchman. Like when I was a child and tried to see you. There was a man standing on the bridge, singing it.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked, shooting her son a fierce look. She had managed to shrug on a black dress in the Chinese style, gold embroidery at her neck and sleeves. 

“The man? Describe him.” Will demanded as Henry finally lowered his hand from his face. 

“I can’t.” Henry replied. 

“Henry!” Elizabeth barked at him as she rummaged in the chest, unearthing two swords. She tossed one to Will who caught it without looking.

“What’s going on?” Carina asked behind the family.

“The man. He wasn’t a man. I can’t describe it any better. He was a monster. He was singing it.” Henry tried. “I can’t remember any more.” He lied. Henry could remember the dream all too well, as if he had actually been there, the cold, the eyes on him, the monster approaching him, sword raised. It un-nerved him how well he could remember the dream. 

Will and Elizabeth turned to face each other.

“It can’t be. He’s dead. Calypso would never allow it.”

“She would. She hates the Court.” Will replied flatly. 

“We need to get to the Court.” Elizabeth replied. “Teague might know what’s going on. I will send out a call to Jack. If he is back, we will need Sparrow. ” She turned to where Henry and Carina were still standing. “Get dressed, both of you.” She ordered as she raised a black hat and placed it on her head. 

Swallowing, Henry nodded and grabbed Carina’s arm as she looked on in shock. 

It was something not many people got to see, the transformation of Elizabeth Turner. The former governor’s daughter and single mother to her lost husband’s child, transformed into the Pirate King, Lord of the South China Seas and Captain of The Empress. Although she had long since retired from physically leading her men and women, Elizabeth Turner was still the authority of all pirates and was often called to sort out matters, plan raids and lived well off the booty owed to her by all Pirates. 

Henry managed to drag Carina out of the room before the girl regained her senses. 

“Henry, what is going on?” She snapped, pulled her arm away from him.

Henry looked at the young woman, his friend, his ally and dare he imagine, something more.

“I don’t know.” He looked back towards his parent’s room. His parents, two of the most feared pirates in the seven seas. The Pirate King and the former Dutchman. “I think we are at the start of an adventure.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Carina had thought of what her life would be like after finding the Trident of Poseidon, she had never expected this. Three days of seemingly normality, living in the Turner household had not been enough to prepare her for the fourth day when she had been woken at dawn by Will Turners shouts, almost shoved unceremoniously into a simple green dress she had been lent by Elizabeth Turner as well as an old pair of Henry's boots and dragged out the door. 

She had no idea where they were even going, as she followed behind Elizabeth, the older woman looking formidable in the Chinese dress and hat, a sword at her hip and a pistol in her pocket. Will was equally armed and Carina had even seen Henry secret a dagger under his dark coat. 

The group had walked for miles across the open fields and past the light house before their path led to a cliff ledge, one side a sheer drop into the sea, the other a dense jungle and only a narrow path in between. 

Carina had suddenly been thankful for the simple dress and sturdy boots she was wearing as, in single file with Elizabeth Turner leading, the group had made their way along the winding path. 

Carina, following behind Elizabeth, had watched with envy as the woman navigated the ledge with easy, seemingly unaware of danger of the drop and the ragged rocks below them. Carina had no such luck, staggering several times when her footing gave way or her dress snagged on a fallen branch. It was only Henry’s reassuring hand on her arm as he followed behind her that kept Carina from slipping off the ledge. 

Finally, after what seemed like miles of dangerous footing, the path widened to show a coast town nestled safely in a Harbour surrounded on all sides by rocky walls, except for a small gap in the cliff face, not much larger then a spanish galleon, which seemed to lead to the open ocean. Ships of all sizes resting in the clear waters, safe from storms in this natural defence. The town itself was large, settled on the side of a hill leading to the water, but what was noticeable was the large ship, or should she say, series of ships resting on the rocky cliff above the town, towering over the Harbour like a guardian. 

Carefully, Carina followed the Turners down the hill to the town. 

It was full of people, rushing about their daily lives. There was a stink in the air, the people, the sorts that Carina in her mind would label as Pirates. Dirty, unwashed men, bawdy women, a few street urchins running through the crowds among the bustle of bodies as store owners shouted their wares, men and women haggled over prices and laughing filled the street in what Carina could see was a prosperous town. 

Dozens of sets of eyes fell on the group as they entered the crowds, causing Carina to halt her steps. Tensing, Carina felt for Henry's hand, drawing courage from him as the people in the crowds turned to watch them. 

In front of them, Elizabeth had no such fear, striding towards the crowds. 

To Carina's shock, the crowds parted to let her through, a few men even removing their hats as the woman passed. 

"Come on." Henry whispered at Carina's side. Still gripping her hand, the young man stepped forward, following his mother through the parting crowds. Behind them, Will took up the rear, hand on his sword despite his relaxed stance as he scanned the crowd.

It was then that Carina noticed the looks they were getting. It was a look of reverence and ....fear? 

It suddenly struck her. She had been told already that Elizabeth was the elected Pirate King. When she had been informed of the matter, Carina had been more interested in wondering how a woman could be an elected ruler. She was a woman of science and firmly believed that a woman was equal to a man but still the idea had stunned her, that a woman could rise so high amongst thieves and pirates. Or that she could hold it for so long.

Now she could help but think of what that meant for the Turner family. If Elizabeth was the Pirate King, what did that make Will as her husband and Henry, as her son? Was Carina unwittingly holding the hand of a Prince?

Feeling self-conscious, she pulled her hand away from Henry's as she looked around at the faces of the crowd. There was no hostility there. No threats. If Carina was honest, it felt like the people respected this family. 

Slowly, the crowd lost interest in the group, the people going back about their business as Carina and the Turners made their way into what had to be the town square. Carina looked about her in aww at the shops, the people in this bustling centre. She could hardly believe that this was a pirate town.

Her eyes fell on the side of one of the small shops, the wall painted like the stars at night. Intrigued, she stepped away from the group and into the surrounding crowd, ignoring the push of bodies as she went for a closer look. She didn't look back at the Turners.

There was a fluttering sound and Carina looked up. A blue and yellow parrot had perched on the thatch roof of the building, its beady black eyes looking down at her. She held its gaze for a moment before turning to look at the mural. She raised a hand to place it on one of the white stars.

"Here, you’re a pretty little thing." A voice said to her side. 

Carina turned, hand dropping to her side as she saw the man approach her. He was filthy, the reek of him hitting Carina like a punch to her gut as he approached. 

"Not safe for a pretty thing like you on your own. Is ok. You stick with me girl and I can take you home. For a price o’ course." The man sniggered, continuing his slow approach, a wicked smile on his filthy face. 

Carina tensed. She wasn't a fighter but she had grown up an orphan. She knew how to defend herself from a man on the streets. And her journey for the Trident has taught her not to fear a single man. The man continued to approach as Carina prepared herself to deliver a kick to a place the man would not recover from quickly.

There was a hiss and a sword suddenly rested at the man’s throat. The man froze, only his eyes moving frantically. Carina looked to her rescuer. 

Elizabeth was standing by the man, sword steady.

"Do not even think of it scum." she hissed. "You lay one hand on Barbossa's lass, and I will personally cut out your tongue and nail it up at the nearest tavern. Understand?"

The man gave a jerky nod before whimpering, the blade cutting his neck.

"And that goes for the rest of your friends." Elizabeth added in a loud voice, glaring towards the watching crowd. 

"O’ course king." The man mumbled.

Elizabeth nodded before slowly lowering the sword. The man turned and dashed out of sight as Elizabeth stepped forward and grabbed Carina's arm, pulling her through the crowd. 

“Your name is your greatest weapon here." The older woman stated as she pulled Carina around the edge of the square to where Henry and Will were standing. "Use it. Barbossa had a lot of respect."

Henry reached forward to grab Carina's hand as Elizabeth let go of her arm.

"Are you alright?" he asked. 

There was a fluttering sound. Carina looked up to see the parrot land heavily on Will’s shoulder, the older man looking at it in surprise for a moment. 

"Mr Cotton’s parrot." He muttered. 

The creature gave a loud screech.

"Dead men tell no tales." It rasped. All of them stared at it for a moment.

"I’ll catch up with you." Will stated, turning to look at Elizabeth "There is something I must do" Without waiting for his wife's reply, the older man disappeared into the crowd. Elizabeth stepped forward, towards Will's parting back before stopping. 

She nodded and turned towards the hill and the ship perched on top. With no other option, Carina allowed Henry to lead her after his mother and towards the Pirate Court. 

\---

The parrot had taken flight as soon as Will had stepped into the crowd, the pirate following it as it flew above him. 

Most would not think of the creature as being special. A mute man’s pet. But Will knew there was something wrong. For one, the creature couldn't be here. Will knew personally that the creature had followed its owner to the deeps several years since. He had personally ushered Cotton and his parrot there on the Dutchman. Yet here it was, talking of dead men and leading him...somewhere. 

As the crowds thinned out, Will found himself breaking into a run to keep up, eyes fixed on the creature as the buildings thinned and then disappeared behind him as he left the safety of the town. 

The parrot flew on, dodging trees as it fled into the surrounding jungle. Finally, it slowed, circling before landing on a tree in a small clearing. It looked down at him as Will stopped running, the pirate looking around at the trees surrounding him. 

The air was suddenly cold, leaving Will to shiver slightly. Through the trees, faint lights appeared, moving as if held by invisible hands, causing shadows to dance. A thick fog drifted through. He could feel someone approaching through the sudden gloom. 

He gripped the handle of his sword, ready to strike.

"Welcome William Turner. It has been many a time since you stepped on land." A voice whispered on the wind.

Will recognized the voice. It was one he knew from long ago.

"Calypso." he hissed as the lover of Davy Jones stepped near.

"No welcome for me?" The figure asked, teasingly. She did not look as she had when she had been bound in her body. Her body was not solid. Instead, it shifted like water was rushing under her skin. In the dim, Will could see crabs crawling along her body, dissappearing into her clothing.

"You promised. 10 years if Elizabeth stayed true. She did, yet you would not let me free." Will snarled. He could happily take a sword to the deity if he didn’t already know it would be a futile gesture. 

Calypso threw back her head and laughed, clumps of her hair falling away into drops of water before it grew back on her head. Slowly, the sea godess started to circle Will, looking at him. In the jungle surrounding, the lights started to move again, drawing near in the fog. 

"That was not a promise made to you, William Turner" 

"But it was a promise made to him. A promise you broke." Will shot back.

The deity shrugged, seemingly uncaring for the pain she had caused.

"The Dutchman must have a Captain. The lost souls must be guided to their rest." She replied, as if the years of hell she had inflicted on multiple people meant nothing. She turned to look at Will again.

"Tell me, who Captains the Dutchman now?" She asked. 

Will glared.

"My father. We knew there needed to be a Captain and he was not willing to let me lose my family to your doing, like I lost him to the Pearls Curse." He replied. If Calypso was going to try and sneak some betrayal from him for failing his duty, she was going to have to go a long way to find it. The Dutchman continued its work. It had a Captain. Will was not needed. 

She nodded.

"He is a good man, is Bill Turner. But Captain of the Dutchman, he is not." Suddenly, she was standing before Will, hand reaching for his chest. "Where is your heart, William Turner?" She asked, hand hovering over the prominent scar.

Will remained silent, looking challengingly at her. 

"The Dead Man’s Chest is empty. You know that for you have opened it, looking for your lost self once you stepped on land. Yet, there is no heart beating in your chest." The deity mused, running her hand across the air before Will’s chest.

"What is your point?" Will asked as Calypso stepped away, fighting not to reach up and rub at his own chest where the goddess had almost touched him as she turned her back to him, gazing off into the jungle.

"When I took his heart, it was beating mightily. My promise was to return him to that state. You however... It was with the last beat of your own heart that you destroyed him. You can only be returned to the state you were in at the time of your triumph." Will did not need to know who she was talking about. The legend had been ingrained in his mind the moment he had first faced Davy Jones on the deck of the Dutchman. 

She turned, her dark eyes staring into Wills. 

"You are dead William Turner."

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as a one shot inspired the 2 endings of by Dead Men Tell No Tales. 
> 
> Because as much as I want the Turner family to live happily ever after, I don't think their tale is over just yet. Plus, I have waited 2 movies already for the reunion between Will and Elizabeth and Jack and it hasn't happened yet. 
> 
> Also, I brought back the Nine Pieces of Eight because I love the idea.


End file.
